The Other Side
by thejordanandhervices
Summary: Danny Jr. is older now and wonders who his father is, the only problem is Rafe is more protective of Danny than his father before him, but when Danny stumbles upon an old Walker family secret, what will he do? Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**I have two half-siblings, so I can relate to what I write here. R&R, enjoy. **

**If I owned Danny, he wouldn't be dead. **

**Prologue.**

Danny stood in front of a large marble rock in his front yard, reading the words in the smooth surface quietly to himself,

"_Officer Daniel Walker_

_September, 1912 – December 1941_

_A best friend, a hero, and a father"_

He smiled slightly and said, "Dad?" There was no answer. "No one really talks about you, I think their afraid. I don't know why, but I wish I could have known you." He smiled to himself and sat down, leaning against the cool marble.

"You know," he said lazily, "I'm turnin' ten this year, I wonder what your tenth birthday was like?" He wondered absently, his head slowly drooping to one side as he fell into a deep sleep.

Rafe walked out of the front door, looking for his son who had disappeared three hours ago. He knew exactly where Danny would be, it was where he always was when he was sad or mad, or hurt. He didn't know why he did that, maybe it was to be near the father he never knew; maybe he felt a missing piece like a forgotten puzzle.

Rafe made his way to the head stone he knew was there, though the light was fading, and saw Daniel Walker McCawley asleep against its surface, snoring lightly. He didn't notice until just then how much the boy looked like his father.

Sudden tears stung his eyes; he knelt next to his adopted son and smiled, "You'd be proud of him Danny, he's a good kid." He then picked up the sleeping boy and carried him back into the house.

**Danny Jr.s POV**

I walked out into the early morning air, heading to the last place I remembered being; I didn't recall walking into the house the night before, though I must have, it didn't matter.

For the past few days my father, my real father, had been more of a mystery than it ever had. He seemed almost unreal in my life. Sure there were the little things: When I look at pictures of him I see the same face that I see in the mirror, Sometimes I see my mom and Rafe talking and crying in their room when they think I'm not home, when my mom will suddenly go glassy eyed if I say something or make a certain face, it mostly happens when I'm worried. She says that I look exactly like him, except for a few things, like my nose, she said I got that from her, but that's it.

"Who were you?" I asked the cold, unmoving earth. I got no reply.

I remembered perfectly the few things I was able to squeeze out of my mom, Rafe refused to mention my dad, he wouldn't say why. I was able to make my mother tell me six things about him. 1) He and Rafe were best friends since they were little 2) He was a pilot 3) He fought in the infamous Pearl Harbor and lived only to die a few weeks later on a Top Secret mission over seas 4) He was always shy 'cause his daddy beat on him 5) His last name was Walker and 6) He knew about me before he died.

I clung to those six things, the only things I knew about him, besides he looked like me. I also knew we kept his uniform and metals in the attic, untouched.

My half-brother, Jim, came over to me after a few minutes, "Whatcha doin'" he asked.

I looked at him, seeing as much of my step father there as I saw me in my father's pictures, "I'm thinkin'," I said.

"Thinkin' of what?"

"My daddy,"

"He's inside," Jim said, confused.

"That's not my daddy."

"Sure it is. He calls you son, and you call him dad when you're not sore." He replied innocently.

I regret what happened next; he was after all, only five, "Why do you think we don't look anything alike? You look like Rafe, he looks like you, who do you think I look like? Who do you think that is?" I pointed an angry finger towards the grave.

Jims small face crumpled, "You mean…You 'aint my brother?" He said sadly.

I sighed, "Yes, Jim, I am your brother. We have the same mom, just not the same dad. Didn't you know? Didn't they tell you? I'm your half-brother, Rafe 'aint my daddy."

"That's your daddy?" He said, pointing to the grave.

"Yeah, or he used to be."

"What was he like?"

"I wish I knew."

"Do you miss him?"

"Yes."

"Why?" He may have been five but I still wanted to smack him for his ignorance.

"Because he was my father."

"What's your real name then, if you're not a McCawley."

The thought hadn't entered my mind until then. I guess I wasn't really a McCawley, I was a… "Walker. I'm Danny Walker."

Sudden tears came to Jims face and he ran into the house. It was only when Rafe came out that I realized I was crying too.

"What have you two done to each other now? Jim's crying so hard, he can't hardly talk."

"How did my dad die?" I said, not answering his question.

My question must have really caught him off guard because all he did was awkwardly laugh and say, "I'm right here Danny, what are you talking about." It was a statement, he didn't want to know what I was thinking, because he knew and he didn't want to hear it. But I ignored the implied tone and answered.

"You know who I mean. Danny Walker. Your best friend."

"I told you-" he began sadly, as if he had rehearsed it since the day I was born.

"I know! But why won't you tell me? Why won't you teach me how to fly? What could have possibly happened that made you want to keep me in the dark? All I know about him came from mom; _you_ won't even talk about him!"

He hung his head in front of both the Danny's in his life, "Did you know," he began, looking down, "He found out you were coming right before he died."

"Yes, I did," I said impatiently. I knew this already, "But why does that mean you can't speak of him?"

"I miss him, I didn't want you to feel the loss your mother and I feel all the time, it was best for him to be some distant figure, I did it for you, son."

"I'm not you son." I said with venom that surprised me. He visibly flinched, "Did you ever think that he's the most real adult in my life? He listens to me and I can _feel_ him, in me, around me. He's here, you've done nothing to diminish him in my life."

"I'm sorry."

"I have one last thing," I said quickly, before the brick wall surrounding my father in his head went back up, "Why? Why do you want to protect me so much? I'm not yours, in fact, you should hate me, if it wasn't for me and my dad, you would have always had moms heart, you have to share forever now."

He let out a breath I hadn't realized he was holding, "All our lives, up until Pearl Harbor, I was so used to protecting Danny, from his dad, from bullies…from life. I didn't even tell him I had volunteered to fight in England, I told him I was assigned."

" I didn't quite know what he was talking about, but I didn't want him to stop. He owed me answers."

"I guess," He continued, "You just look so much like him….I just carried over all my feeling for him onto you. The one time I couldn't protect him was the one time only he could protect me…and he died for it."

Silent tears streaked my face, "That's not it is there? He said something, didn't he?"

"Yes, after I told him he was going to be a daddy, his last words to me and the world were, 'Now you are' I love you like you were mine. He wanted me to. He didn't have to speak to let me know how he felt, he never did."

"Oh," I couldn't look at him anymore, "You know, Rafe, I can handle myself."

Just for a moment I saw a small smile, "He would say that all the time, you know. You act so much like him…"

For the next few hours all we did was talk about him. I could tell it helped him remembering as it did for me. I may miss my father, but he missed his best friend, brother, and comrade.

**Can you believe that was just the prologue? Trust me, there is a plot coming, I just needed to show where everything is starting from. Thank you for reading and watch out for the next chapter! :) ~J**


	2. Chapter 2: A Revelation

**Thank you to the people who read the first chapter and a double thanks the reviewers of it. If the summary to this story seemed similar to a story that when clicked upon was a random chapter from an Avatar: The Last Airbender story that's because it is. I was tired and accidentally clicked on the wrong button, and instead of just fixing it, I deleted it and reposted with a different name. **

**Read, Review, and enjoy. **

**Ch. 2 A Revelation**

**Danny Jr's POV**

After the night we talked be my dad's grave Rafe refused to speak about him, the wall rebuilt. It had been nearly a month since he opened up and told me story after story of their shared history, and I was getting mad.

I locked myself in the attic with the trunk containing everything that my father owned at the time of his death. All there were was: two uniforms with matching hats, shoes, three pictures (one of Evelyn, one of him and Rafe, and one of his folks) and a much abused Hawaiian shirt. There used to be a set of dog tags but I had taken to wearing them daily. At the very bottom of the trunk were a series of letters I has missed before that were to and from the same people, my dad and someone named Jen, I read the first one aloud, as was my habit,

_"Danny,_

_Please come back, I need you; ever since dad died things have not been going well. It turns out that he owed a lot of people money, he borrowed all over the place to keep the farm running, and the people who lent them the money are getting more and more restless. I'm becoming frightened. There's one more thing, I stumbled upon a letter between father and an army official I think you should read, but I don't want to send it to you, you need to come home, I can't do this by myself. I love you._

_You're little sister Jenny."_

"What?-" I said, but was cut-off by my mother yelling for me. I didn't have time then, but I was going to find out what this person, who was apparently my aunt, meant.

The light bleeding through my curtain was blinding. I groaned as I turned over, but I knew that I had to wake up or Rafe would be mad, school would be starting and I had to be there or they would tell my parents. Trust me, I speak from experience.

After dropping Jim off at his classroom I headed to mine.

"HEY DANNY!" called a voice from behind me. I knew who it was so I didn't turn to face them.

"Hey, Ricky," I returned.

"Careful, I hear Mr. Sanderson's got a pop quiz today, did you study?"

I looked at my friend, all five foot, eight inches of him **(sorry, I don't know the metric system)**, giving him a look as if to say, 'do you really think I studied?' He smiled back, lighting up his freckled features and his icy eyes in a way that made every girl in the school sigh. I messed up his too-long copper hair and walked into the classroom before he had a chance to protest.

I sat down right as the bell rang, and the teacher gave me a look and I knew exactly what he was thinking, "He's on time?"

Just so it's clear, I'm not a bad kid. When my mom made me go to the school counselor a few years back all they said was that I was "troubled" and sent me home. It used to be I was the first one in the class, sitting my seat with my homework already out and done. Lately, though, the drive that got those kinds of things done had left me, and I didn't miss it.

"Daniel!"Mr. Sanderson yelled.

I looked up at him with a somewhat disoriented expression and he sighed.

"I said," he spoke finally, "Where was the U.S. ambushed on December 7, 1941, starting WW11 for America?"

I looked at him through my hair covering my face, my eyes in slits, "Pearl Harbor," I said.

He couldn't cover his surprised expression. Even though every kid in our generation had heard the stories, it was apparent he didn't think I was capable of retaining such information, "Okay," he said, "If you have really been paying attention to my lecture, name for me at least one of the ships that went down in the attack."

"The USS Arizona," replied without hesitating.

"Alright smarty pants, I know you weren't paying attention when I was talking, so tell us all how you knew that."

He waited for my answer and out of the corner of my eye I say Ricky's head sink, he knew my story almost as well as I did because he was my best friend, and he's the one I told those sort of things.

I stood up from my seat so I could be eye to eye with the only short teacher in the school and said, "My dead father and my living step father were both there and fought. They watched as their friends and fellow officers died. My mother was a nurse and tried in vain to save thousands. Now tell _me_ Mr. Sanderson sir, how I _couldn't_ know the thing that lead to my father's untimely death in the top secret Doolittle mission only a few weeks later… I hadn't even been born yet."

As I finished, I looked back down at my desk, trying to hide my moist eyes.

"I….." he faltered, "I-," he cleared his throat and turned around, going back to the front of the classroom as I slowly sunk back into my seat. He didn't look at me again, or complain when I put my head on my desk and tried not to cry for the father I didn't have and for the people I never met.

I swung back and forth in the old swing that hung from the old oak tree across from the marble gravestone in the front yard. I was neglecting my homework once again, but this time, I didn't think Mr. Sanderson would care if I didn't write the report on the start of World War Two for America.

The air shimmered in the mid-western dusk and I began to feel sleepy. The world got fuzzy but I refused to fall asleep. A man who was about the same height as Rafe came walking up to me from the dirt road, as he approached I tried to remember where I had seen him before, but my mind was sluggish from the trying day, and I just nodded to him in acknowledgement.

"Hey, what's your name?" he asked.

"Danny," I yawned.

Why he smiled right then I didn't understand, but he didn't give me a chance as he kept talking, "What're you doing out here so late?"

"It's not that late."

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"A brother, why?"

"What's his name?"

"Jim, why?

"No reason."

"Look, I don't mean to be rude, but who are you?"

I'm…" he seemed to be thinking, "I'm a friend."

"Oh, that's not vague or anything," I said.

He smirked.

"Since when have you've been my friend, 'cause I've never seen you around these parts."

"Are you sure?"

"Uh, yeah. Pretty sure."

"DANNY!" came my mother's voice, "Who are you talking to?"

"I don't know!" I yelled back, turning to her, "he hasn't told me his name!"

"Who?" She asked, coming over.

I turned around to find that My Friend had disappeared right into the late summer twilight, "No one, I guess."

"Are you feeling alright?" she asked, stroking my hair in the way I liked, but was too old for.

"Yeah," I said, shaking her off, and running for the house. My mind wasn't fuzzy anymore and I had a crazy idea of who I was talking to.

**Well? What do you think? I'm sorry if Danny's thoughts were kinda girly, I am, in fact, a girl and tried my hardest to put into words how I thought a boy would describe another boy without sounding gay. If you are a boy…or a girl, and you think I made it too girly, tell me.**

**I'm not afraid to take some criticism, so please let me know, but no flames merci, as I have no marshmallows to roast. **

**I take any sort of suggestions you may have so don't be afraid to tell me what you wanna see. :) **

**And Happy Thanksgiving. ~J **


	3. Chapter 3: A Favor

**Sorry this took me a while, school was crazy. Now, however, things are slowing in preparation for summer. :) YAY! Anyway, without further adieu…**

**Danny Jr.'s POV**

The three of us were lying under the shade of the sprawling Weeping Willow in front of my house after school, not doing much of anything, me and my best friends Ricky Shaw and Chris Way. Chris was a shy boy who gravitated towards Ricky and me when he came to town from New Jersey several weeks ago. He didn't really fit in with the other kids, like us. Chris was about 5'7" and was a little pudgy; he had dark brown hair and big brown eyes that made him look like he had a lifetime's worth of pain and disappointment in just ten short years. He had quickly assimilated with Ricky and me, probably seeing that we would accept him without question.

Ricky could have gotten into any group at school that he wanted; it was the fact that he didn't want to that made him my best friend.

I had just finished telling them who I saw the night before and was waiting for a response.

"Alright," Chris said, sitting up. He was wearing a black shirt and pants with no shoes and tenderness in his eyes that, on anyone else, would bother me, but he looked at everyone like that. "I'll buy it. Your dad came to you last night to check up on you. It's kinda sweet."

"It's not sweet, it's weird," stated Ricky matter-of-factly, wearing a red checkered shirt and light brown corduroy pants with, similarly, no shoes.

"Well," I said, "That's what happened. I'm not saying it isn't weird…I'm not sure how to take it, actually. He didn't say he wanted anything, maybe he _was _checking in on me. I don't know."

"Why don't you ask him?" Offered Chris after a few moments of silence.

"Assuming he comes back." Said Ricky, "Sorry!" he exclaimed from a look I could only assume came from Chris beyond my unopened eyelids, "I'm just sayin' this sounds a little…" He let the sentence hang.

"Crazy," I supplied. "It sounds crazy."

"Not 'crazy' really, just…odd. You don't really hear about these things happening."

"Yeah? Well, you don't hear of situations like mine every day, either." I said, thinking of the last words my dad ever said.

"That's true," said Ricky, getting up, "well, I gotta go. Ma'll be worried if I don't get home for supper. Coming Chris?"

"Yeah. Goodbye Danny!"

"Bye." I said.

A few minutes later the summer heat faded into something softer as night began to fall on another day, but this time there was something in it that gave the muggy evening a sharper, underlying cold. I opened my eyes when I felt a presence that I automatically knew was not my family's, Ricky, or Chris's.

"Hi, Danny." Came a voice that was familiar to me in a way no other was.

I sat up to see my father smiling down at me, "Same to you too…Dad."

His smile wavered in indecision, his face turned towards the heavens as he spoke, "You figured it out." It was not a question.

"It wasn't hard. The pictures helped, but it was the fact that I see the same face in the mirror every day that made me sure. Okay, I haven't hit puberty, so it's not the _exact _same face, but…" I couldn't seem to stop myself from rambling.

"It's alright Danny, I just want to talk to you."

"Who's Jenny?" I blurted. Wow, when did I become such a girl, saying everything I think?

His smile deserted his face, "Jenifer was my sister."

"She's dead?" I asked sadly.

"No, silly, I am. Jen is still alive. How do you know about her?"

"I found the letter she wrote to you. Something about your dad and an army officer…?"

His fine features settled into a grim expression, "Son, I'm going to have to ask you to do something for me, can you do that?"

"Anything, dad."

"Send a letter to her. Tell her who you are. Tell her "the rattle's lost its sound." She'll know what it means."

I was confused, but I agreed.

"It's time for supper, Danny; you better get going before your mamma gets worried." And with that he turned around and walked across the lawn and disappeared into another summer twilight.

**YAY! Chapter….2? Well, it depends on if you count the prologue or not. Alright, if you can guess who I modeled Chris after you'll get…something special…uhhh…a shout out? A question answered? To pick the next chapter title? I don't know, whatever you want, really. You know, that I can get you. But you HAVE to be right. ^^ Thanks for reading. And please review, it's that little button at the bottom in case you didn't know how. :) **


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